Miss Whiteside glanced at him between her fingers, and then obligingly began to pray aloud. The devotions in which Luke was invited, or rather commanded, to share, were not of very long duration, and something about the simple, familiar words evoked in him an unwonted sense of shame, which was increased by Jinny’s comment on concluding: “’Twere scarce worth while to make such a fuss, were it?” He relinquished the idea of seeking lodgings elsewhere, and moreover unpacked and stowed away his few possessions with a certain sense of satisfaction. Jinny herself came upstairs before he had finished, and immediately took possession of such garments as required mending. The day passed peacefully away. Luke, in fact, was lamb-like throughout the ensuing week, not only as regarded saying his grace and refraining from protest when the need for beer at the midday meal made itself felt, but even returning home from the “Blue Lion” before the church clock struck ten. All in fact went smoothly until Saturday evening when Jinny announced, in her sharp, imperative manner, that she expected “both lads” to be ready for church at a quarter to eleven sharp. “It’ll take us all that time to get theer,” she observed, with the corner of her eye on Luke. “Yo’d best look sharp an’ see that yo’re ready,” observed the latter, addressing himself to John. “He knows right enough,” said Miss Whiteside quickly. “It’s yo’ as ’ull have to look sharp.” “I’m not goin’,” rejoined Kershaw firmly. “Nay, but you are,” responded Jinny, uplifting her voice. “’Tis the rule o’ the house. I’ve never had a lodger yet as didn’t go to church.” “Yo’ll have one now, then,” retorted Luke, tapping the ashes out of his pipe and rising. “There’s sausages for breakfast to-morrow,” remarked Jinny, with apparent irrelevance. Luke burst out laughing:— “Yo’ think I’m a child, I doubt,” he said. “No breakfast for a bad lad. Well, it won’t hurt me to go wi’out my breakfast for once. I’m not goin’ to church—I tell yo’ plain. Yo’ have yo’r rules an’ I have mine. I fell out wi’ a parson once as took on hissel’ to interfere wi’ me, an’ I says to him what I says to yo’—‘I’ll never set foot ’ithin a church again’—an’ I wunnot.” He got up and went out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Jinny was nonplussed for once; but nevertheless, following her elementary mode of procedure, prepared such an appetising breakfast on the following morning, as she hoped would touch the heart of even the most hardened sinner. Luke, however, did not put himself in the way of being softened; he rose even earlier than his landlady; dressed himself sullenly in his working-clothes, and went off for a solitary ramble along the shore. The Rector met Miss Whiteside on her way to church. “What, only one companion!” he cried, laughing. “Only one, sir,” said Jinny, dropping a staid curtsey. “How is that? I thought there were no black sheep in your fold.”